


So very green

by pirategangsters



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Fluff, HIC is only mentioned, Only mentioned in passing but just to be safe, Right?, Suicide Attempt, Time Shenanigans, also vaguely scratch, but only vaguely mentioned, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 09:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4473299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirategangsters/pseuds/pirategangsters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the young Dolorosa, still at work in the brooding caves meets a new friend, the Handmaid now old and worn, in defiance to fate, meets an old one, and a singular dress becomes very important</p>
            </blockquote>





	So very green

**Author's Note:**

  * For [4eeldrive](https://archiveofourown.org/users/4eeldrive/gifts).



> I address the Dolorosa as Porrim Maryam and the Handmaid as Damara Megido. This is my first fic (be gentle). Hope you enjoy!

Porrim Maryam ran as fast as her feet could take her. She needed to get away from the mountains, but a dark storm loomed overhead. Being found outside of the caves would be disastrous, but being hit by lightening maybe even more so. What she needed to do was find shelter. Sharp yellow eyes scanned the distant prairie landscape. Amidst the sea of purple grass stood a lone shack. She quickened her pace.   
A quick sweep around the room showed only a vacant building, filled with nondescript crates and broken pieces of furniture. All of which was crumbling from disuse. Seemingly indistinguishable from the other decaying ruins that punctuated the countryside. This would be adequate shelter from the storm. She set her things down and leaned against the back of a few barrels. Her traveling cloak was wet, but her veil and hood had protected most of her face. As uncomfortable as the thick grey fabric was, she was thankful for its warmth.  
Perhaps she could even catch up on her rest. It was unlikely that anyone would follow her in this weather. If they were going to drag her back, they would have to wait until the storm passed. Close by lightening flashed. She closed her eyes and- At the sound of footsteps snapped them open. So they had found her. Shaking she reached for her lipstick.   
Whoever it was, was coming closer. She gripped the small tube in her palm tighter. It's now or never she thought and she-   
“Oi is this place open or what?”   
She nearly fell over.   
She had anticipated some sort of threat or warning before she was to be apprehended by her pursuer, but such an inquiry had never crossed her mind. Open? It seemed that they were interested in service. But what could they possibly expect from here? Once again she scanned the room, this time being sure to meticulously inspect every uninteresting feature.  
Under her closer inspection, the unremarkable room began to change, as if slowly being shifted into focus. The sea of featureless broken furniture formed the remains of what could have been a respectable set of tables and chairs. The crates which rotted in the corner exposed countless dusty bottles. The characterless mound of wood buried beneath layers of cobwebs near the front of the room revealed itself a bar and the pile of planks behind it, the shelves that once stocked it. However this realization only came after careful, no painstaking examination. It was the sort of thing you could only notice if you were looking for it.  
She couldn't decide whether the stranger was exceptionally observant or entirely oblivious. While the risk of malignant intent from the visitant was still present, her curiosity about them outweighed her caution. Determined, she gathered her breath and called into the gloom   
“It would seem that this establishment is completely abandoned, save yourself and I, and has been deserted now for quite some time.”  
“So you don’t work here.”   
She huffed slightly. The outsider was regrettably obtuse.   
“I should think not. A business such as this only caters to rats, spiders, and the occasional wayward traveler. It is hardly the ideal occupation.”   
From the other side of the barrels came a slight grunt and the sound of shifting feet.   
“You know, not too long ago this place was a lively little grease stain of a pub.”  
Porrim gaped from her hiding spot behind the barrels. The weathered old shack had undoubtedly been something of the sort, but judging by the deterioration of the place, that couldn’t have been any less than twenty sweeps ago. This troll, whoever they were, was at best mistaken and at worst insane.   
"Not too long ago?!" she voiced back in utter disbelief.   
“Please excuse me but, do you even know what sweep it is?”  
There came back a short burst of irritated laughter which echoed across the room.   
“If you’re going to insult me, I’d rather you do it to my face. Being slandered by a couple of barrels is a little demeaning.”  
Cursing mentally she bit her lip, her sharp fangs soon tearing into the skin. She should have known better than to offend the stranger. She really needed to get her sarcasm in check. They had shown no signs of malcontent and yet she had to go and provoke them. Great. she thought. If there had been any chance that they were not going to kill me, it’s gone now. Oh well, what is done is done I suppose. Without the element of surprise, her chances at overpowering the stranger did not look favorable. She sighed and rose grimly, ready to endure whatever horrible demise was waiting and stood face to face with the most breathtaking troll she had ever seen.  
Face to face, not being the most accurate description considering the staggering difference in height between the two. She was nearly a head taller than porrim and was built with lean muscles and sharp curves. Strong. Her hair was cropped short save for two long strands, one on either side of her head which fell down to her ankles. Methodical. She wore dark grey tights and green stiletto heels which ground into the dusty floor. Business-like. Impossibly long red eyelashes framed her angular face. Elegant. Her downturned lips were painted a brilliant shade of red. Dangerous. From her stature to her posture, everything about her seemed to radiate power and authority.   
Everything that is, except the vibrant green dress which pressed against her form. The dress itself, was without question beautiful. It looked masterfully made, patterned with what looked like a lifetime’s worth of embroidery and tailored to fit like a second skin. Additionally the extraordinary hue, and the daring thigh high slit which ran down the length of the side made the dress itself an exquisite piece of fashion. A real work of art. Porrim noted. However there was something about it that clashed disturbingly with the wearer. The intricate pattern drowned out the rest of her features and the instead of flattering her figure, it seemed to imprison it. Rather than looking tasteful, the slit in the side seemed somehow undignified, and that vivid intense green, seemed to smother the fire in her deep ember eyes.  
So lost was Porrim in her study, that only after the stranger spoke again, did she remember the situation at hand. Her cheeks flared a lucid green and her gaze plunged to the ground. In complete idiocy and ignorance, Porrim had managed to provoke the most powerful, and lamentably the most attractive, troll she had ever seen. She hesitantly looked up, only find those bright red lips pulled into a slight smile.  
“Sure I know what the sweep it is,” the mighty troll stated plainly. “As a matter of fact I could give you the current time from the sweep all the way down to the very second, but in the long run, none of it has any real meaning. You might as well be naming the drops of water in a sea.” By the end of the last sentence a dismal tone had crept into her voice and she suddenly appeared very worn out. The flames in her eyes that had been burning so brightly moments before had suddenly gone out. Like the smoke from an extinguished candle, fatigue clouded the troll's eyes. Right then Porrim felt a pang from deep inside of her chest which she swiftly and completely ignored. Or at least tried to.   
Once again Porrim found herself studying the floor and anxiously shifting from one foot to another. Meanwhile the stranger had produced a small box of cigarettes from seemingly nowhere.   
“May I ask who you are?” Porrim ventured.  
“You don't know?” The other troll had shifted her focus from the small package to Porrim who fidgeted uneasily from where she stood. She had sounded sincere. Assuming it to be a question she answered tentatively, “No I do not.”  
The stranger raised a single finger to her unlit cigarette “Well kid I'm the-”   
then stopped a moment and slowly lowered her hand  
“I'm no one.”  
At this Porrim snorted. “Well I regret to inform you of this, but we can not both be no one.”  
She stated plainly as she hurriedly began to smooth her skirt.“Now then what shall I call you?”  
This was retaliated with a single arched eyebrow from the well dressed troll, which was then utterly lost on the smaller troll who was busy smoothing her skirt.   
“What makes you so sure you get to be no one?” The larger troll challenged.   
Porrim gave a short sigh. Is it not obvious? She wondered to herself.  
“Because I am clearly the less interesting figure in the room. Your name please.”   
The other eyebrow followed in the first’s stead, but the stranger did, much to Porrim’s relief, answer.   
“Megido. Call me Megido.”  
“Very well then, miss Megido. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”   
There was then a rather awkward period of silence. Megido spent it finding a seat upon the ancient bar counter and then exhaustively twiddling her unlit cigarette while Porrim sat on a crate nearby and tried not to stare. In an effort to avert her gaze, she examined the moldy ceiling which sagged over the moonlit bar. That was when she noticed Megido’s horns, which from her new perch, scraped the surface of the ceiling. They were enormous, far larger than those of any troll she’d seen, and they were truly magnificent. They spiraled out from the side of her head ended on a deadly point. Deep ridges spaced wide apart from one another lined the impressive set. And as she followed their arching path, she noticed the numerous cracks and scratches which interrupted the beautiful display and another acute pang shot through her.  
“If you don't mind me asking, exactly how old are you?” The question was very quiet, barely above a whisper, yet it slashed through the silence like a knife.   
Megido made an annoyed sort of noise but looked genuinely troubled.   
“Too old kid. Way too old.”   
Desperate not to be caught in another bout of silence Porrim quickly spoke.  
“So would a reasonable estimate be around twenty?”  
There was a fit of coughing from where Megido was seated.  
“Do I really look -that- old?” She finally managed sounding more than a little concerned.   
Porrim chuckled softly.   
“No not at all. If it weren't for your previous statement and the spectacle atop your head I would have assumed you to be around my age. Then again you seem to have a especially, well, mature physique, not that that is a bad thing. On the contrary I think it makes for quite the attractive figure but juxtaposed to one such as myself it does age you. A bit. Relatively speaking.”  
Unfortunately Porrim had no chance to observe Megido’s response as she was plagued with sudden fit of uncontrollable coughing. After which she resigned herself to fussing with the thread of her hood and occasionally glancing at Megido, who remained surprisingly quiet. Still unwilling to submit to awkward silence Porrim murmured under her breath.“It's your eyes.”  
“Eh?”   
“They look very tired.”   
“Hmm.”  
The handmaid looked away in what appeared to be ardent concentration and then suddenly stated,  
“Damn. So I'm old but with a nice rack huh.”   
Porrim abruptly stood up and rushed to the entry way. “Unfortunately it would seem that the storm is still overhead.” She called out a bit louder than was necessary for someone who was checking the weather. She stood there for about a minute or however long it took for her face to stop burning and then stalked back to her seat on the crates. Megido was waiting for her still on the counter, but this time wearing a toothy grin, with a now lit cigarette held between her teeth.   
“Well then how old are you, relatively speaking?" quizzed the smiling troll.   
“Eleven and a half.”   
Porrim bit her lips awaiting some sort of opinion but received none.  
Megido once again deep in thought, took a drag from the cigarette. She watched mesmerized as full red lips closed around the small paper roll and then condemned herself to staring at the wall. Minutes passed before the sound of Megidos voice snapped her back into reality.   
“So, uh, is that the age where you start work?”  
With a jolt Porrim suddenly remembered why she has ended up there in the first place.  
“Oh sorry! Um, yes it is. Well almost. You are typically assigned a career at ten, but mine was dictated at hatching.”   
Porrim’s throat had gone dry and a bitter taste had begun to fill her mouth. The taller troll still distracted with her own thoughts took no notice and continued to smoke.   
“Do you like it?” She finally said.  
Pardon me?  
“Your job, I mean.” Megido clarified as she stubbed her cigarette onto the old counter.“Do you like it?”   
A burning lump had worked its way up Porrim’s throat, but she ignored it for the sake of answering her. She needed to say this. Megido probably wouldn’t care, but maybe she would listen. She took a deep breath and began.   
“To be honest I despise it. By decree of the empress all jade bloods are to be shipped off to the brooding caves to hatch grubs, house drones, and never be heard from again for the rest of their lives. I had absolutely no say in what I would do with my life, all because of my jade blood. What killed me was not that I had to give up my dreams of traveling the world, not that I had to give up sewing and designing clothing, but the fact that this job dragged me out of blissful ignorance and made look the repulsive reality of this planet dead in the face. In those dark clammy chambers I found the abhorrent truth ugly and broken, which I've grown to hate more than anything on this wretched world. I would not have been forced to see it had my blood not been so green. That is why I hate the color green and I hate the empress for making that damnable decree.”  
At this point Porrim abandoned her constricting hood in favor of being heard better.   
“She made the mistake, no she had the audacity, to put me in those caves, where the entire future of this hell-bound race passes right through my fingertips. Taunting me, daring me to act with the smug assurance that I will not. “Go on and try it,” She must think perched atop that ridiculous monument to herself they call a throne. “See who listens.” And maybe she is right. No one has ever listened to me or what I have had to say. In fact half of the time, people act as though they can not see me. Throw on a colorless cloak and you become invisible to the world! Why is that? Because no one on the streets of this crummy planet can see past their own damn problems and their own damn blood color. That includes us jades too. I work with two other matriarchs and I am certain neither of them have been outside the caves in over ten sweeps. Not that they care. The reclusive life of a jade blood is an honor to them. Anything else would disgrace the purity of our color. To hell with that!”  
By then she had risen and began to pace the room.  
“And I don't have the nerve to say that I am special, or that I am above any of these problems. But after having every color of grub pass through your hands, all as helpless, as slimy, and as needy, as the next, you learn that everyone on this rotten planet is stupid for thinking themselves better or worse than one another. And I only know this because I was green enough to be dropped in the brooding caves. I would expect that anyone who has witnessed generations come and go and felt the city throb and pound could say the same. And you can bet that that includes the condescension herself. I know that she knows exactly how pointless this all is, and yet she lets it, no she makes it happen.”   
At this she stopped and turned to directly address an absolutely astounded Megido.  
“It is because of her that my sorry jade hide was deposited there in the first place and because of her that this world suffers. She may think herself high and mighty, but I assure you that that was not always so. Every troll is hatched weak and vulnerable and crying to be held and she was not different. And one day, one day I am going to remind her of that. I don't know how, but someday I will give the her most imperious condescension the much needed wake-up call she deserves, and if it makes a difference, I will do it even if it kills me!”  
Out of breath and entirely invigorated she looked up at Megido, whose jaw hung limp in complete awe.   
“I am sorry I rambled.” she spoke quietly and then puffed right back up.  
“You know what? No. I am not actually sorry. I meant every last word of that.”  
She made to pick up her discarded hood but was intercepted by Megido who grabbed her into a fierce hug. In outright shock Porrim tried to sputter some objection, but stopped when she realized Megido was crying. The strongest, most commanding troll she had ever encountered was awkwardly hunched over her, and sobbing into her back. After a moment’s debate she placed her hand on Megido’s back and began to gently rub circles.   
“I can not understand you.”   
Porrim felt the massive troll shift against her back and felt horns knocking against her own. There was a sort of mumbling into her now wet shoulder.  
“I hate green.”   
“What?”  
There was a slight groan into her back and more mumbling.   
“I just hate it so fucking much.”  
“But you are wearing a dress that is entirely green.”  
There came the sound of laughter, still sharp, but lighter. Almost relived.   
“Yeah I know.” She snickered.  
“Then why wear it?” Asked Porrim still very confused, but too pleased to complain.  
She felt Megido shuffle to move apart. Two hands were placed on her shoulder as burning red eyes met her own.   
“Because someone who hates the color green, hates the sight of it, doesn't want to be around it, and hates it just as much as I do if not more, was able to put it on first and tell me to get the fuck over it.”  
“Wha-who?”  
“You.” Megido placed a gentle kiss to the crown of her forehead.“Miss Porrim Maryam.” She announced. “Miss dessert prophet, flower of night, bearer of thorns, the dolorosa, mother of suffering, queen of the forsaken, Miss maryam, you. Just now. And you twelve sweeps ago.”   
“Megido, what in the world?”   
“I was eight and stupid and on the way to try and kill myself. When Bam! I ran smack into you. Isn't that crazy? there you were. All wisdom, strength, understanding. You sat me the fuck down and we had a hell of a chat . It was crazy. You knew everything I was going through, and what’s more is you listened. Listened to me, the handmaid, daughter of scratch, the demoness, and at the time wildly unhappy teenager. Imagine that! You bandaged me up, gave me something to eat, gave me this dress all to my sheer disbelief. How could anyone be so fucking understanding and kind to a person without even knowing them? And you know what you said? You looked me in the eye and said ‘Damara Megido, twelve sweeps ago someone did the exact same thing for me, and this is the least I can do to repay them.’ And then you winked and sent me off! Unbelievable!”   
Rust tears streamed down the handmaid’s face as she laughed into the Dolorosa.   
“You are talking absolute nonsense. The handmaid is just a legend and yet I still believe you why is that?”  
“Because you care about me.”  
“My I never would have guessed.”  
There was a brief giggle and then a deep sigh from both parties.   
The handmaid turned towards the entrance. Her face hardened  
“The storm has passed and so must we.”   
The Dolorosa latched on to the bigger troll and grumbled into the Handmaid’s back. “That had better not mean what I think it means.”  
“Listen I, more than anyone else love, telling fate to go fuck himself but I've got an appointment that I can't miss. Sure I've been putting it off. Hell that's what I came here to do. I used to arm wrestle bluebloods in this bar. Thought I'd find something mildly amusing to waste time with here. But instead I found your gorgeous tattooed ass right here in the flesh. Telling me to get my shit together. Exactly what I needed. And they're right. I have to go. But first you need to be off.”  
“No, we have only just met and I-”  
“Maryam. You have a dress to make, a son to raise, and a condesce to fuck with, remember?”  
“Megido what on Alternia is a- wait I made that dress.” She stated skeptically.  
“Yeah, wasn’t that explained in my sketchy flashback?”  
“I made that scandalous side leg?”  
“Especially the side leg.”  
With that the Handmaid scooped up the Dolorosa in her arms and carried her out onto the now clear prairies. The moons hung high in the sky which was scarred with an innumerable amount of stars.   
“You’ll see me again you know.”  
The young Dolorosa still overwhelmed with the rapidness and uncertainty that this had happened furrowed her brows and bit her lip.  
“I know that, but will I see you again. This you.” The one I've fallen impossibly in love with. Porrim searched the Handmaid’s face and for the briefest moment she thought her smile faltered, but in a blink of the eye it was replaced with her blinding grin.  
“Well fate declares that this is the last. However, if anyone's going to tell fate to go fuck itself it's me.”   
“I would not expect anything less.”   
The Demoness gently lowered the Dolorosa and was immediately enveloped by the jadeblood’s strong hug. No words were exchanged for the countless moments they stood there. Damara couldn’t tell whether it had been a minute or an hour when they finally tore apart. The young Dolorosa stared up at her face streaked with jade and set with determination.   
“Now then Megido, Let me get this straight. I am to proceed to overthrow the entire autocracy, craft the world’s singular most marvelous dress, and give counsel to history’s most feared adolescent agent. If I am to even attempt all of these ludicrously impossible things I am going to need you to do likewise.” She sighed deeply. “I know that being the harbinger of doom must be busy and all, but atleast give me this. Promise me you will come back and promise that you will not forget me.”  
Damara swallowed hard and nodded, unable to speak.  
“Thank you.” She stood on the tips of her claws and kissed the taller troll’s cheek.   
“Well then I had best be off. I have an empire to topple.” and with a beaming smile and a flip of her cloak the Dolorosa swaggered off to do just that.  
The Handmaid watched her head back to the looming mountains until she was but a speck in the distance. Only then did she bury her face in the fabric of her sleeve and inhale deeply. A watery rust stained the shimmering fabric.   
“Never.” she whispered, her voice breaking from all the emotion that threatened to consume her.   
Shaking her head she summoned her wands and with a crack colorful lightning was gone. A hundred sweeps later, thousands of feet overhead, and mere seconds later in her own timeline, the Handmaid lands upon a vivid red deck.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for the amazing prompt! These two are my fav characters. I pray them justice. I hope the time travel shenanigans aren't too far fetched! I just wanted them to have something to connect them that wasn't really, abuse. Anything that needs clarification I would be happy to explain. Spot any mistakes? Please let me know!


End file.
